It Was a Hot One
by Differenthoughts
Summary: One shot, set in Lizzy's POV. Darcy and Lizzy are at a party, and Lizzy is borrowing a very ill-fitted outfit. Darcy reacts. Complete!


Fans of my first story, _Casual_ , will see a lot of familiar themes in this short story. This was actually the original idea before it took on a mind of its own and morphed into Casual. Even so, I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks, as always, to the wonderful Jancat10, for helping me out with proofreads and edits.

* * *

 _It was a hot one alright_.

This phrase seemed to permeate the air itself based on the number of times I heard it uttered that night.

It was the end-of-the-summer house party my family throws every year. All the doors and windows were open and, though a nice breeze blew through to keep it from being uncomfortably hot, it was still very warm, and made even more so by the amount of people in the house. Out on the lawn, a BBQ of epic proportions was taking place. Tables were weighed down with food, drinks were kept ice cold and flowing, and there was a whole table dedicated just to desserts.

Inside, everyone in the neighborhood was filtering from room to room, catching up, chatting, or relaxing after having drank and/or eaten way too much. At any rate, the place was packed with faces I had seen all my life, having grown up in this neighborhood and this being probably the twentieth time we've held this party. There _were_ new faces here and there of course; I hadn't lived in my parents' house for quite some time after all, but generally I knew everyone and everyone knew me.

Speaking of my visit, however…

Due to a mishap in which I left my bag of clothes at home rather than in the trunk of the car where I thought I had put it, I was currently borrowing a pair of shorts from Lydia and a t-shirt from Kat. The shorts fit okay, though they were far shorter than I would normally way out in public. However, Kat was about an inch smaller than me in the waist and a few cup sizes smaller than me in the bust; consequently, the shirt rode up all night long and I was showing quite a bit more cleavage than was my norm. Still, after a while it got to the point where I didn't care that I was showing about three inches of my midriff. It was too hot and I'd known most of these people since I was in diapers. I didn't care if any of them took issue with my exposed skin.

That is, until I realized Jane had invited Fitzwilliam _fucking_ Darcy to the event.

I knew Charlie had been invited. I knew Charlie had agreed to come. Somewhere along the way, it appeared his sister and his best friend also received the invite. It would be nice if _my_ sister and _my_ best friend could have warned me that my mortal enemy was going to be here.

She probably was afraid I would overreact in some dramatic way.

The problem with Darcy being here while I was forced to wear this ill-fitting shirt is… well….

We have an unusual relationship. The kind of relationship where we argue or straight-up fight all the time, but also had a magnetic pull to one another. When we were together, there was a constant heat that charged between us. We also communicated best through looks; Darcy was especially closed off, but he could never disguise his thoughts when I was able to see his eyes.

Basically, all this boiled down to the fact that we were incredibly compatible in bed; something I had especially enjoyed discovering.

The trouble, then, was this energy between us. It was hard to ignore at the best of times, if I walk around here in this skimpy outfit, I might as well just go up to him and invited him up to my room. He won't be able to resist touching me and I won't be able to resist wanting more of it. The moment Darcy and I made eye contact that night, I knew he was going to torture me for my audacity, despite the fact that I had no say in what I had on. I also need it to be known that as bad as this small, too much flesh showing outfit is, it was still the best option.

I was coming down the stairs when I first saw him. He was listening to Charlie chatting away; Charlie had his back to me and Darcy simply had to flick his eyes up to take me in. I tugged at my shirt self-consciously, then wished I hadn't. First of all, I did not care what Darcy thought of me. _At all_. Period. Second of all, after wearing this stupid shirt for a few hours, I learned tugging it down may fix the exposed midriff issue, but it aggravated the too-much-cleavage issue. Without comment, I turned left into the dining room when I reached the main floor, completely ignoring him. I had to snub Charlie a bit too, but I wasn't the Bennet he was interested in, and not stopping to chat wasn't going to upset him very much.

Ten minutes later, I was just coming up from the basement carrying another case of water. Suzy from three doors down offered to take it outside for me, and when I turned around, Darcy and I were suddenly alone in the kitchen.

"It appears we do not pay you enough, Elizabeth," he said the first time his skin touched mine that night. "If you can't afford clothes that actually fit you."

I had been surprised but not completely displeased by his touch, but then he went and opened his big dumb mouth. I placed my hand over his, stilling it. Locking eyes, I purposefully bent his finger back until he snatched his hand away from me with a wince. I stepped around him, leaving the hallway.

Despite this less-than-warm welcome, anytime he caught me alone he would step close enough to run his fingers teasingly across my exposed skin. This happened with surprising frequency considering there were people crawling all over the two-story house. It also made me feel a little like prey to the hunter from the amount of times he managed to get me alone. These teasing touches had been enough to get me on edge and stirred up, but it wasn't long before just seeing him walk into a room would make my heart beat with anticipation.

However, as the night wore on, I was feeling pretty forgiving towards him for teasing me. I'd had a moment to think about what other men I know would have done if they had been trying to get me alone all night, and I doubt their priority would have been simply to tease me, to build me up rather than find an empty room to release the sexual tension. Darcy always seemed to want to challenge, to push with the expectation of being pushed back. He made this a contest, he made things interesting… He made it fun.

I was refilling the ice tray in the kitchen thinking of the three previous times he'd managed to catch me alone when suddenly his hand was on the counter in front of me and the rest of his body was leaning towards me. I jumped at his sudden appearance and proximity, then pressed my stomach against the counter, glaring at him out of the corner of my eye. I was determined he wouldn't get the chance to tease me again. I know he was pushing my buttons on purpose, and if he kept it up I swear to God I would… I would…

Ugh. I would probably drag him downstairs to the basement, where there was not only an extra bed, but where no one from the party would venture.

"You seem flushed," he murmured. I shot him a look to let him know I was not amused.

"Maybe that's because _someone's_ been trying to put their big sweaty paws on me all night," I replied with practiced annoyance.

"Hmmm… I wouldn't think I would enjoy being called someone with 'big sweaty paws', but nonetheless, I do hope it is _me_ to whom you are referring." Darcy spoke low and right into my ear. It was hard not to sway into the remaining space between us so I could feel that low, husky voice reverberating against my skin. In this moment it was hard to imagine letting someone else touch me the way Darcy had been all night and I shuddered at the thought.

"Only _you_ are pompous enough to keep cornering me just because I am wearing a shirt that rides up a bit," I huffed at him, trying desperately to hide my smirk.

There was absolutely no way he was going to find out that _his_ was the only touch I craved; for one, his ego was the size of the Grand Canyon already – it did not need any inflating. For another, he would never, ever let me forget I said it.

"I suppose it's only right that I try to remedy the situation then." He stepped even closer, picked up a piece of ice, and, before I could predict his next move, he was sliding it along my lower back, which was also exposed thanks to Kat's tiny shirt. I jumped at the sudden coldness, turned and pushed his arm away.

"Darcy," I said in a warning tone. He simply smirked.

Then, he stepped into me again. I didn't back away, so I was still essentially trapped against the counter and his chest. He lifted the ice once more, this time trailing it from my neck down lower where my cleavage was popping out of this shirt. Have I mention how small it was on me yet?

This was when I decided to give up. I pushed his hand away so I could stand on my toes and kiss him. I put my hands behind his neck as he kissed me briefly, but he pulled away sooner than I thought he would have. This loss was quickly remedied when he leaned down to taste the skin that he had just trailed the ice on. I sucked in a breath from the pleasure that arose when his lips were on my skin, but slipped my fingers around the rapidly melting ice cube in his hand and tossed it into the sink.

"Hey," he pouted, then lifted me onto the counter.

He kissed me with more intent this time, trapping me with hands on either side of me. I rested my own hands on his shoulders, then had the sudden need to imitate his earlier actions and taste the skin where his broad shoulders met the curve of his neck. I moved my hands to open the topmost button of his crisp black shirt. Then I had to push him back firmly; he seemed reluctant to part lips. I tugged the material of his shirt to the side as I leaned over to kiss that very spot. The heat and our proximity had caused a sheen of sweat on both of our skins, and I couldn't help but linger long enough to taste it. I squeezed his hips with my legs, wrapping them slightly around him to be able to tug him even closer. Darcy groaned, a bit loudly I thought, and his hands quickly and easily slipped under my shirt, but I grabbed his wrists in a death-like grip.

"Don't you _dare_ take my shirt off in this kitchen," I warned him, my words losing a bit of their effect by saying it breathlessly. He grinned.

"Fair enough. Where would you _like_ me to take it off?" He ran his tongue over my right earlobe. It was distracting, but after a moment I realized I had given him permission to not only start undressing me, but to go somewhere more private.

As I was, again, contemplating leading him down in the basement, we heard a shrill noise of outrage. Caroline had walked in, seen us, and acted like she had caught us in the middle of something _far_ more interesting, instead of just being, perhaps, a little too close together. He hadn't even been kissing me at the time. Although, to be fair, my legs were wrapped around him and his hands were grasping my waist, where there was quite a bit of skin showing.

She turned on her heel and flounced right back out. I took this moment to push him away rather roughly and slide down off the counter. He looked at me with some surprise and confusion. Rather than take the time to explain, I simply grabbed Darcy's hand and led him through a side door that led down into the basement. I let go to walk down the dark, narrow stairs while he paused at the top.

"Should I close this?" he asked, his voice deep.

His voice always took on this husky tone when we started making out, and that fact alone drove me a little wild. I turned back to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you think?" I asked him, then turned to continue down the stairs.

Darcy managed to close the door, hurry down the stairs and grab me - all before I made it two feet. I stumbled a bit, and by the time we reached the bed, that notorious shirt was off. I thought it was only fair to retaliate. I quickly unbuttoned the rest of that black shirt he was wearing, as well as tugged the sleeveless undershirt off. He immediately attached himself to my neck, and I closed my eyes in pleasure as I ran my hands over any exposed skin I could reach. He was so solid, and there was just something in his presence that allowed him to claim every inch of space he occupied. In these moments, I was ready and able to admit to myself how much I loved touching him and feeling him as he touched me.

A few seconds later, I yelped, pushing him away.

"What the hell," I gasped.

He had snuck a few pieces of ice down with him and I hadn't noticed until he was, once again, trailing one on my skin – of which there was a lot more exposed now.

"Shhh," he tugged me back to him, apparently taking issue with the three inches I had reclaimed in my cold, wet surprise. "You said you were hot, and I'm doing my best to help you out with that."

"Oh yeah, you're so altruistic." I said sarcastically.

He frowned at me, then reached down and picked up that damn shirt. For a moment I thought he was going to shove it back at me and leave in a huff – the words were already on my tongue to stop him when, instead, he used it as a makeshift blindfold, tying it tightly around my eyes and blackening the world.

"Darcy-" I began hesitantly, fingering the cloth. I wasn't sure I was comfortable with this.

"You trust me, don't you Elizabeth?" he whispered near my right ear.

I shivered in anticipation, but didn't answer. I _did_ trust him, as crazy as that sounded. It wasn't that I had to think long and hard on my answer; I was mostly surprised at my own response to it.

"I would never hurt you, or make you uncomfortable," he whispered earnestly. I swallowed.

"I know," I finally had to say.

I hated when we got serious like this. I was much more comfortable calling him names and pretending I only tolerated his touch.

"I'm okay, Will."

"Good," he murmured again.

Then he was tracing my lips with that ice. Reflexively, I licked the moisture off when he pulled it away. In the next instant, his tongue followed the same path mine had taken and I moaned at the hot feeling of it, my lips feeling much more sensitive after the coldness of the ice.

Luckily, he hadn't restricted the movement of my hands. I gripped his shoulders, feeling my way to the base of his neck and tangled my fingers in his hair where it was just long enough in the back to reach. With my other hand, I ran my thumb over his rough cheek. That cold piece of ice was now trailing from my neck down lower, making a detour across my right shoulder. His tongue followed closely behind it, mostly tasting, occasionally kissing. Before the trail had completely warmed again, I felt him blowing gently on my neck. I shivered, more and more of my skin becoming overly sensitive.

I needed to be closer, to feel more of him on me. A bit clumsily, I straddled him. He grunted when my hips met his, and I ground against him before I even had the thought to do it.

"Lizzy," he grunted again, his voice strained.

"Sorry," I murmured innocently, but shifted again so I could feel him pressed more firmly against me. He nipped my shoulder in what I can only assume was retaliation, but I quickly reclaimed his lips, letting him control the kiss as a compromise.

"You have no patience," he growled at me when we broke apart.

"No," I agreed readily. "I don't."

I gasped; he had just unsnapped my bra, tugging it roughly away. I was anticipating that cold chill of ice next, but he was taking his time, holding me far enough away that I couldn't even feel the warmth of his chest against mine. I was sure he was making a point about my patience, but I had my own to make. I _was not_ a patient person and, blindfolded or not, I was prepared to take control to move things along.

I leaned more weight into my knees, shifting closer and higher up on him. He was still wearing his jeans, so while he was distracted, trying to control my movements by gripping my shoulders, my hand was close enough to be able to reach between us and unsnap the button above his fly. He grunted, but made no other sign he realized what I had done. Undeterred, I pulled his fly down, making enough room to slip my hand in. When I gripped him, he actually jumped, grabbing my wrist but not pulling it away.

"Christ, Elizabeth." His voice was pure frustration and desire. I grinned, hoping his eyes happened to be on my face to see it.

However, next it was my turn to cry out. He must have put the last of the cube in his mouth and was trying to make me wait while it turned his kiss into ice. When he finally put his mouth to my breast, his tongue was ice cold and nothing had ever felt so incredible to my already overly sensitive skin. I squeezed down reflexively, and after his hips bucked he finally pulled my hand away.

That was okay with me now; I made a beeline for his hair, caressing my fingers through it in encouragement as I simply repeated his name between breathy moans. When he switched breasts, his breath had warmed a bit, but it still felt amazing and I told him so very enthusiastically. Earlier, I was mostly teasing him, but now I ground against him purely to relieve some of the tension he was building, to feel that wonderful friction between us.

I gasped again when he suddenly pushed me back off him and managed to push me gently back against the mattress. Finally, I heard him kick off his pants and underwear. In the next moment he was tugging my own off while he kissed his way down my stomach. Completely nude and still blindfolded, I was expecting his newly warmed mouth and am afraid I cried out with little care for the noise I was making when, instead, I felt an ice cold cube. His hot mouth followed where the ice led and I was gripping the sheets to my side as hard as I was biting my lip.

He hit my most sensitive spots, which were all very well known to him by now. That jump from ice cold to molten lava left me so sensitive but so aroused. I endured his slow, teasing pace for as long as I was able. I _wanted_ him to go on forever but I _needed_ him to finish taking me to that peak.

" _Will_ ," I finally pleaded, my hands still gripping the sheets rather tightly. "Please, Will."

He slid back up my body, tossing the ice and kissing anything he could reach. I wrapped my arms around his neck when he was close enough and then my legs around his waist. I cried out again when he pushed into me and shamelessly and immediately began pleading with him to go faster, push _harder_. It took very little after that for him to lose control. I kept up my breathy, shuddering approval. I loved, as I always did, being the one to pull that layer of control away that he wore as a second skin. In almost no time he was panting, half laying on top of me as I was reluctant to let him get much further away.

My body was oversensitive jelly. He slipped off the makeshift blindfold.

"Hey," I whispered, blinking at the sudden light, even as low as it was.

"Hey." He gave me a lopsided grin, then leaned down and kissed me.

A bit later, we were getting dressed. I was wondering if anyone noticed our absence, and then guessed there was a pretty good chance Caroline had. Inwardly, I smiled. She was trying her best to get any attention from Darcy, and it was pissing her off anytime he even glanced my way. Which, to be honest, was often. It was petty and I wish I was above it, but I loved getting under that woman's skin.

"What are you doing?" Darcy asked me with a strange look on his face.

"What?" I asked in reply, confused at his meaning.

Had he somehow read my thoughts? I had just finished getting dressed, pulling my shirt over my head and slipping my arms through.

"You cannot wear that shirt," he told me. I lifted an eyebrow.

"I _cannot_?" I repeated in an overly calm voice. He scowled.

"Elizabeth, you're practically popping out of it, and every man in this house is waiting for his chance to see that happen." Darcy frowned. I laughed.

" _You_ are the only one in this house who cares that I'm wearing this shirt," I told him dismissively.

"Trust me," he stepped close, still scowling. "I'm not." Grabbing the bottom, he lifted the shirt back off of me and tossed it onto the bed.

"Are you _insane_?" I asked him, well on my way to taking my shirt back and kicking him out of the room, the house, anywhere that was in my presence. "In what universe do you think you can tell me how to dress?"

"None," he acknowledged instantly with a wince.

He frowned again, looking almost pained. I was ready for a fight. We weren't even really dating, just hanging out together and more often than not jumping into bed. Even if we _were_ dating, there was no way in hell I would give him authority over how I dressed. I was not about to let this slide. There was no way he was going to get away with telling me what I can and _cannot_ wear.

"Please, Elizabeth," he seemed to be trying a new tactic. I have to admit it threw me, because he rarely asked anything of anyone – he demanded it. This worked well in the business world, where he particularly dominated, but one-on-one it was very grating. "As a personal favor, just… _please_ don't wear it."

What the hell could I say to that, especially in light of the things he had just done to me? Which, by the way, were still causing me to be a bit wobbly on my feet. For as strongly as I felt about this issue, I simply did not have much fight in me at the moment and instead of just telling him no, I decided to discuss the situation.

"I don't have a lot of options," I gestured around us, still in my bra. "I think going out like this will cause a much bigger stir."

He began unbuttoning his dress shirt again. I was about to make a quip about how solidarity in this instance wouldn't make much of a difference when he tugged off his undershirt and handed it to me.

"Okay, first of all…"

Obligingly, I pulled his shirt on. It reached my mid-thighs and I was practically swimming in it. He smirked, but tucked the excess fabric into my shorts and moved it around somewhat; it actually didn't look _so_ bad. Like a 90's hip-hop throwback.

"But, second of all, if you're so concerned with what I'm wearing, showing up halfway through the party in a man's undershirt might cause some gossip."

He shrugged indifferently. I scoffed, throwing my hands up.

"Of course _you_ don't care, you… chauvinistic caveman. You've practically marked me." I huffed. He looked me over a bit slower this time, then let a pleased smile take over his face.

"Ugh!" I looked at the ceiling in frustration.

Why did I think he would take offense at being called that? For as willing as he was to keep…. Whatever this was between us _between us_ , he took any opportunity to put his mark on me. Mostly, it was an old fashioned hickey.

" _Liz-zy Mar-ie_!" My mother's voice penetrated our little haven. From experience, I knew she must have been calling me for a while.

"Coming!" I called back. "Fine, you win." I grumbled. I grabbed another case of water and turned to make my way upstairs.

When I took my first step up, Darcy stopped my ascent. First, he took the case of water from me, and then he leaned forward and kissed me. I was somewhat surprised but I kissed him back.

"I know bending to someone else's will goes against your nature," he told me quietly when we pulled back from one another.

I gave him a teasing smile. "Well, I know _not_ having someone bend to your will goes against yours."

In rare form, he rolled his eyes. I laughed softly, and then kissed him again while I took the case of water back from him to jog upstairs.

"Oh good, you did hear me about more water." My mom was waiting for me. "The blue bin is almost empty."

"Okay," I said easily, heading outside to refill it. I was just glad I didn't have to explain where I had been, what I had been doing, or why I was now wearing someone else's shirt.

I did my task and began chatting with the neighbors once more. The smell of Darcy on me made me self-conscious and on edge, like he was always _right there_ _,_ just out of sight. I found myself looking over my shoulder a lot. I also found myself associating the smell of him with the things we did alone together, and that was making things difficult as well. Luckily, it was so hot that my flushed face was not out of place.

Christ, I was beginning to like this shirt.

Later on in the evening a bunch of us had congregated to one of the upstairs bedrooms. The group consisted of two of the friends Jane and I had grown up with, Mike and Jen, as well as Jane, Charlie, me, Darcy, his cousin Richard, Charlotte, and her little brother John, who was about Kat's age. At this point, we had drunk a good amount of alcohol. I was feeling pretty relaxed. Everyone was at the very least tipsy, except, of course, Darcy, who would never let go of enough control to let himself be affected by alcohol.

This room used to be Jane's. For the party, mom had covered the perimeter with large, fluffy pillows and soft blankets. It was the quietest room in the house, though nothing blocked the music and sound of conversation. Still, we didn't need to shout to be heard and it was generally a pretty chill atmosphere. There were two windows that were open, and we were getting a nice cross breeze coming through, which is why we all originally started to linger in here.

Because so many of us had grown up together, there were well-told stories being passed around for the sake of Charlie, Richard, and Darcy. Funny stories. Embarrassing stories. The kind of stories only someone who had been drinking and knew you very well, in a room that mostly consisted of people who knew you well, would think was appropriate to retell with such flourish.

"Liz was dating that drug dealer at the time," Mike guffawed. Three pairs of surprised eyes shot to me, and I gave an embarrassed grin.

"He sold pot every once in a while for his friend. _Joey_ was the drug dealer," I clarified before I hit Mike in the arm. "Tell it right, you delinquent."

"Lizzy saved Joey's life," Mike went on.

"I did not," I said with a laugh. "Shut up, Mike." I instructed, but Richard only encouraged him to elaborate.

"So yeah, she was dating that drug dealer… what was his name?" Mike tilted his head.

"Matt," Jen supplied with a smile.

Matt had moved onto Jen after we broke up, but I had never been too serious about him and assured Jen that there were no hard feelings if she was interested. She had been much more attracted to him than I had been and I hated how Mike always felt the need to remind her that I had dated him first.

"He _wasn't_ a drug dealer," I reiterated with some exasperation. "He was only friends with Joey."

"So Matt, Liz and I show up to see Joey, and he can't leave with us until he takes this van on a test drive." Jen picked up the narrative. "Lizzy freaked out and starting fighting with Matt, saying he needed to take her home. She's so rarely serious, or forceful about things," Jen told the group.

"I did the only thing I could think of in the moment to get those two idiots out of that van," I said. "He found out they had been undercover police who were trying to trap him in that van with the backpack full of drugs he always had on him."

"Matt was carrying that night too," Jen supplied. "He wasn't the target, but he would have definitely gone up for a few months, at least."

"But Joey was the bigger fish, and it would have been his third strike." Mike finally was able to jump back in. "Hence his undying love for our Lizzy, here."

"I haven't spoken to Joey in about ten years," I felt the need to clarify. "I can't imagine he even remembers me."

"He would still give you the shirt off his back if you asked, and from Joey, that's saying something." John, of all people, jumped in with that comment.

"Speaking of the shirt off his back…" Mike eyed me with humor. "What's with the sudden wardrobe change?"

"Kat's shirt was too small. It was uncomfortable," I replied, cursing him for proving Darcy right; other people _had_ noticed that blasted shirt on me.

"Not for us," Mike leered with practice.

For as long as I had known him, he was a flirt. I shook my head with indulgence, but caught sight of Darcy. Instead of the smug look I was expecting for being proven right after all, he was staring at Mike with a dark look of contempt. _Oh lord. Please don't let him make a scene right now in some misguided attempt to defend my honor_.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Richard, thank God, jumped in and turned the conversation. "Remember playing spin the bottle at parties?"

Everyone seemed to want to chime in with good humor, remembering first kisses and past experiences playing the game. Surprisingly, it wasn't long before we had all gathered into a tighter circle and Richard was enthusiastically spinning a bottle on its side. It landed on Jen and, giggling, she leaned across the circle to exchange a chaste kiss with him.

Charlie, to his left, was next. It was obvious who he hoped the bottle would land on, but he got Charlotte instead. Another brief kiss was exchanged.

Jane spun the bottle without hesitancy and it landed on Richard. He made a big show of excitement while he got close enough, but in the end he kissed her briefly, elbowing Charlie good-naturedly when he fell back to his seat.

John got his sister, which prompted both to heartily pass. We allowed John to spin again and this time it landed on Jane. Charlie was trying his best to appear unaffected, but it was easy to tell he was not happy that someone _else_ got to kiss my sister.

"The only girl who hasn't been kissed yet," Mike felt the need to point out when it was his turn. "Don't worry Lizzy, I got you," he winked and spun the bottle.

It landed on Jen, to my left. I was not disappointed, sliding out of the way so the two of them could kiss. It was the most enthusiastic kiss so far, and we called out encouragement and wolf-whistles appropriately.

On my turn, I spun without conscious thought on who I would like it to land on, other than hoping it wouldn't be Charlie. Too awkward. In the end, it was Jane. I leaned over, kissed my sister's cheek, and handed the bottle to Jen.

Jen got John, Charlotte got Mike.

Darcy spun next. As soon as his hand touched the bottle, I knew it would land on me.

"Hey, Will managed to break Lizzy's losing streak," Mike laughed.

"Real nice," I told him with good humor.

We met in the middle, and Darcy kissed me. I startled when his lips met mine. They were cool to the touch and if I had lingered any longer, I was sure I would find out his tongue would have been just as cold. I sat back and pretended to listen as Richard upped the ante now that this first round was finished. He wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven.

As the group argued over ground rules, I watched Darcy take a drink from his chilled scotch, sucking an ice cube in his mouth while his gaze never left mine. That he must have done that on purpose was my first thought, but how could he know the bottle would land on me, that I would be the one he kissed?

Images of Darcy, on top of me, inside me, the hot and cold waring over my sensitive skin flooded my mind. I squirmed, Darcy smirked, and I felt a great urge to dump that glass over his head. And then drag him back down to the basement.

"Okay," Richard's jovial voice brought me back to the awareness that there were other people in the room, who were all acting like teenagers at a frat party. He reached in to a red Solo cup and pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper. "First male is….. Will!"

There was some good-humored grumbling, as Richard had picked his own cousin first. Richard held up the second red cup, which held scraps of paper with all the girls' names in it. Suddenly, I felt incredibly irritated at the thought of someone else going into that closet with him. I'm not sure what I would do if any but my name was chosen. Darcy dipped his hand and didn't linger before pulling a name out.

"Elizabeth," he stated stoically.

Cries of disbelief were abound. After all, he had just gotten me with spin the bottle. He didn't defend himself, only turned the paper so the group could see. _Lizzy_ was, indeed, hastily scrawled on it.

The group was once more enthusiastic. We were pushed and pulled into the small but thankfully empty closet.

"Seven minutes starts… now!" Richard said before slamming the door shut and leaving us in darkness.

"Listen, Darcy," I started, reaching out to find him in the darkness.

It wasn't difficult, the closet was not meant to be a walk-in. My hands bumped his chest, and from there I shifted them to his forearms, traveling slowly up to his shoulders. His own circled my waist, pulling me flush up against him.

"I'm going to make out with you for seven minutes," I whispered, "and if you can manage not to insult me in that time, I will let you get to second base."

"I shall endeavor to keep any slight against you that may come to mind to myself," He replied. I groaned softly.

"Why do you have to say such sexy things?" I asked, darting my tongue out to taste the skin on the underside of his chin. He grunted, squeezing my hips reflexively.

"I had no idea your attraction to me extended to include my linguistic skills." He sounded pleased if a bit distracted.

"It extends to include most of that big, sexy brain of yours," I impulsively told him. I pulled his chin down so his lips could meet mine. "Wait." I tilted my head back just enough to forestall the kiss. "You better not have any ice on you."

"Unfortunately not," he breathed, taking the initiative to close the distance. He pulled back after a moment. "Although, if you want to meet me back in the basement…"

"Let's finish this make-out session before we book the next one," I said dryly. That was all the encouragement he needed, and for the next six minutes there were no more words between us. He kissed me slowly, passionately. After all this time I still got a thrill when his lips met mine, and I often initiated make-out sessions when we found ourselves alone together.

"Ten-second warning!" Richard pounded on the door and I jumped. "Time to get your clothes back on, you two!" The crowd joined him in the ten-second countdown.

He was joking, but couldn't have known how much we really did need the time to straighten ourselves out. I re-tucked my shirt, Darcy buttoned his. I shifted my bra slightly; Darcy had been a little enthusiastic with my permission to get to second base. I was pulling my hair back, trying to straighten it out as much as possible when the door opened.

"Well, well." Richard tugged me out first. "Just look at those swollen lips and messy hair. I think we can assume Will definitely made it to first base, wouldn't you say?"

"She doesn't even call him by his first name," Mike scoffed when almost everyone agreed with Richard's assessment. I frowned, beginning to become annoyed with him.

"Well, Lizzy, we have a dispute. Care to call it?" Richard grinned.

"This is _Seven Minutes in Heaven_ , not _How Far Did You Let Him Go_ ," I reminded them with a frown. I noticed no one bothered to get Darcy to reveal just how far he had gotten with me – even those who had just met him must have been able to tell that he was not the type of person to answer that kind of question.

"See? She can't stand that guy – no offense," he grinned at Darcy who, again, looked ready to punch Mike in his loud mouth. "I say he didn't even kiss her,"

I narrowed my eyes, catching everyone's attention.

"Second base," I announced impulsively. I couldn't say why I was suddenly defensive on Darcy's behalf, but I was.

There was a beat of silence before the crowd erupted in disbelief and good-natured teasing. Richard slapped his cousin on the back, Jen fanned herself dramatically while wondering aloud who _wouldn't_ have let him get to second base, and John pointed out that my shirt could have easily been procured from Darcy himself. I blushed red at my impulsive statement, but no one had paid John's comment any attention, mixed as it was in the general outcry.

Finally, the attention turned to the next two players. Richard and Jen. I felt bad for Charlotte, who I know was looking forward to getting into the closet with Richard, and felt even worse when Mike picked her. He wasn't a bad guy, but he had been drinking a bit much and was more outrageous than normal. Charlie, elated, picked Jane.

When it came time for John Lucas to pick we realized that there were no more girls for him to choose from. Finally, after much debate, all the girls except Charlotte put our names back in and he got to choose. Unfortunately, mine was the name that was picked. Once again, I was shoved into that closet but this time it was with much more reluctance.

"So, do I get to go to second base too?" John asked, only half joking. I still saw him as Charlotte's little brother, and didn't think I could bring myself to kiss him, let alone let him feel me up. I shuddered.

"If you try anything, I'll break a finger." I told him.

"Aw, Liz," he pouted in disappointment, which just further instilled the image of him as a ten- year-old boy in my head rather than a twenty-one year old man, only a few years younger than I was.

"John, I knew you when you were in diapers. There's no way I'm letting you get past first."

"So… you'll let me kiss you then?" he asked hopefully.

"Ugh… sure, I guess." I frowned, not having the heart to make him leave the closet as the only male who didn't at least get a kiss. "But keep your tongue to yourself."

"Ok," he agreed readily, and then kissed me. His aim had been a little off, but he quickly adjusted. It was _so_ awkward, to tell the truth. Probably made even more awkward than it would have been if I hadn't been kissing Darcy all night. The stark difference in passion for these two men made me feel like I was kissing my own brother-if I'd had one, of course.

After a few minutes he got bold, and I felt a hand on my waist. I flicked it off. A few minutes after that, he tried to French me.

"John," I pulled back. "Gross."

"Gross?" He repeated, clearly insulted.

"We grew up together. You're practically a surrogate brother. I don't want my little brother's tongue in my mouth," I told him.

"I'm not your brother," he said, making an effort to deepen his voice.

He kissed me again, and instantly there was a hand on my chest. I took his finger and bent is as far back as I dared. He yelped out in pain, but I didn't let up.

"Jesus, Lizzy, let go," he pleaded loudly.

The door burst open and the whole crowd was there trying to see what was happening. I turned back to John, who was on his knees at this point, his other hand clawing at mine.

"When a girl tells you she's uncomfortable, you need to listen to her," I told him angrily.

"I will, I will, I will, I'm sorry," he was gritting his teeth in pain. I let go, then stepped out of the closet.

"What the hell did he do?" Charlotte asked, half-amused, half-concerned.

"I told him kissing him felt like kissing my brother, and he tried to prove me wrong." I scowled to the room, who were looking from him to me and back again. Richard helped John up, obligingly looking at his finger in semi-amused sympathy.

"John, you dumbass!" Charlotte slapped his hurt finger away when he tried to show it to her, convinced it was broken. That did not help his mood. He turned his hurt, angry eyes to me.

"You let some guy you don't even know, that you don't even _like_ get to second base with you, and then pretend to be…some virginal _prude_ when all I did was kiss you," he said angrily. "You're just a…a… bitch."

I rolled my eyes. He was not doing himself any favors and I was about to tell him so when someone else beat me to it.

"What did you say?" Darcy caught the attention of the room, his voice dangerously low and even. John flinched, turning around to face the taller man as Darcy had been right behind him when he asked the question.

"You push a woman too far with your advances, and then try and blame and belittle her for defending herself?" Darcy was clearly livid.

There was a sudden tense, uncomfortable silence. I myself was stunned mute. Darcy had always had an intimidating but very controlled air about him; right now he looked capable of violence.

"She can kiss or _not kiss_ anyone she wants to, and you do not have to understand her motives for doing so." Slowly, he had backed the younger man against the wall.

John just stared at him with wide, clearly frightened eyes.

"That also goes for any other woman you meet. Do you understand?"

"Yes," John replied instantly. "Of course. I'm not some kind of… rapist. I was just-"

"Don't attempt to defend your actions," Darcy sneered at him in clear disgust. "I think you should leave."

John's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then, petulantly, he huffed and stormed out.

"I'd better go make sure he makes it home okay," Charlotte sighed with resignation.

"I'll walk you out," I offered. We made it downstairs and onto the porch before we talked again.

"I'm sorry about this, Char," I told her. She gave me her own surprised look.

"Sorry? For what?" She shook her head. "Lizzy, Will was right. John was way out of line."

"He's just a kid," I said weakly.

"No, that's the problem," she turned to me earnestly. "He's an adult now. I know it's hard to think of him like that, but it took an outsider like Will to remind me; he's not just my goofy little brother anymore. He's out there on his own, kissing girls and who knows what else. You think I like the idea that my little brother might be one of those asshole creeps who tries to push a girl past where she's comfortable going, and then treats her like shit when she refuses?"

I winced.

"I'm glad Will said what he did, I'm glad you almost broke that little twerp's finger, and I hope John remembers all of this next time he's alone with a girl." Char gave me a lopsided smile. "Really. It killed the party, but I'm not upset. Well, with anything _you_ did."

We chatted a little longer, promising to meet up later the next day, and then I watched her walk down the street until she disappeared.

I wandered through the yard, and then the house. I thought it had been aimlessly, but it didn't take long to realize I was looking for a specific person. I searched the house for Will, but I couldn't find him. The room we had all been in was now empty, and everyone had scattered. Impulsively, I went down into the basement.

"Hey," I said, moving to sit next to him on the bed.

"Hey," he replied lowly, clearly still upset. I shifted, leaning on my knees behind him and began rubbing his shoulders.

"Thanks for defending my honor," I ventured. He simply nodded.

I waited him out, continuing to rub his shoulders. Tentatively, I reached around to unbutton his shirt. He didn't help me but he also didn't hinder me when I slipped it off of him. Softly, tenderly, I ran my hands through his hair, across his shoulders and back, and then repeated the process. I couldn't help feeling very accomplished when, slowly but surely, the tension seeped out of him.

"I _hate_ guys like that," he finally broke the silence.

"You and me both," I snorted without thinking.

He turned his head to read my face. I winced, hoping I looked as apologetic as I felt. He needed me to be serious right now and I regretted my attempt to lighten the mood. I rubbed the deep furrow between his brows in an attempt to sooth it away. When he was once more relaxed, I kissed that spot softly, then turned him around as I continued to caress his back.

"I always imagine it's assholes who don't know how to interact with women who behave like that. Seeing someone you've been friends with since childhood…" he shook his head. "I don't understand how he can think that's okay."

"Will," I murmured. "Unfortunately, guys like that can be total strangers or your best friend." I wondered why he was so upset with what had happened, but I knew that I had to be patient and wait him out. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long, as it turned out.

"Gigi started her first year at college last semester. She begged me to let her live on campus, to get the full experience. I had to say yes, but…" Darcy shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "I knew that I'd kept her too isolated, that she wouldn't know what to do in a situation like that."

Gigi, I knew, was his little sister. At eighteen, she was ten years younger than him, and after the early death of his mother, he had practically raised her. He often felt, I knew, more like a father than a brother.

"Every girl learns, sooner or later." I told him gently.

I wondered, from his reaction to John, if there was more to the story than his sister simply being vulnerable. Did something happen to her at college? By a friend? Jesus, I hoped not.

"Eventually, there's going to be a guy you meet, especially at that age, who is going to try to push you to do things you aren't ready for. The only real way to learn to say no is to be in a situation where you have to."

"I love everything about her, but I do sometimes wish she was more like you," Darcy murmured painfully.

"Me?" My hands stilled in surprise.

"You are not shy about breaking some creep's hand, if you need to," he reminded me with admiration. "I can't see Gigi doing that."

I thought this over. "Will… I'm past that awkward, insecure age. I had to learn to stop what I wasn't ready for, too." He turned to me, clearly skeptical. "I've been told my whole life that Jane is beautiful and I am smart. It took a long time to realize that guys would _also_ be interested in me, and at first…" I bit my lip, hesitating. God, I could not believe I was having this conversation and with Darcy, of all people, "at first, I thought I had to do whatever they wanted to keep them interested."

"That's crazy," he said, looking at me in clear disbelief. I smiled.

"Will," I ruffled his hair with affection, "even the most self-assured girls can feel insecure, and even the most docile, friendly girls can break someone's finger when they need to."

I tugged him back and directed him to lay down on the pillow. I slipped out of my shorts and my – his-shirt, and then wrapped my arm around him and put my head on his chest. He held me close, taking my hand in his and laying them both over his heart.

"If she has any of the Darcy spirit in her, I wouldn't worry too much."

"Maybe I could introduce you two, the next time she comes home," he suggested hesitantly.

"Sure," I agreed easily. If it would put his mind at ease, why not? I had to admit I was curious about her.

We were quiet for a few minutes, each thinking our own thoughts. Soon, my eyes began to droop.

"'m fallin' asleep," I murmured.

"Sleep," he rumbled, running a hand up and down my back soothingly.

I felt the vibration of his word through his chest and hummed appreciatively. I did fall asleep, and fairly quickly too. Sometime later, I was woken up when Darcy sat up in bed, moving slightly away so that he was sitting at the edge.

"You leavin'?" I asked sleepily, reaching out to run my finger across his lower back in one last caress before he left. He turned to look at me but didn't answer.

"Have I ever pushed you too far?" he asked, deathly serious.

In my sleepy haze, I was confused. Then, the events of earlier finally filtered through my brain. Instinctively, I reached out my hand to pull him back to me. I grabbed his shoulder and tugged so that his head was once more on the pillow next to mine.

"Never," I told him, nuzzling his neck. "You wouldn't."

"I blindfolded you today when you were clearly uncomfortable with it," he reminded me, his voice betraying his guilt over it.

"I was _hesitant_ ," I emphasized, throwing a leg over so I was straddling him, sitting up and bracing myself with my hands on his chest. "I had never done anything like that before," I admitted. I looked down, tracing an invisible pattern on his chest as I remembered the events of earlier that night. "But you reminded me who I was doing it with, and I relaxed." I leaned close, putting my hands on either side of his head as I peppered soft kisses on his face. "Because you would never do anything to hurt me, or push me too far."

"I wouldn't," he confirmed, kissing me firmly, finally grasping my hips. "Ever."

"And if I ever told you to stop, you would stop," I said seriously. "And that's why I don't mind trying new things with you, because I feel safe."

He still looked pained, so I decided to lighten the mood a bit.

"And," I reminded him with a coy smile, "I very much enjoyed it."

"Yes," he finally cracked a smile, his voice nonetheless husky. "It certainly seemed like you did."

"You need to learn not to take on the weight of the world," I told him as gently as I could.

"You've pointed out several of my flaws," he reminded me with a self-deprecating smile. "I don't want to demonize someone, and then go and do the same thing because I think I'm better than they are."

"In this instance," I told him with a bit of admonishment, "You _are_ better than them. I know that." I kissed him again. "Even if you don't."

He smiled softly, then got lost in his thoughts again. When I sat back to have a hand free so that I could attempt to smooth that stubborn brow of his, his eyes met my gaze once more. "If I'm such a great person… why do you not want anyone to know about us?"

I frowned. I had not expected this.

"Has that been bothering you?" I wondered gently.

He hesitated, but then nodded. I bit my lip, thinking. Then, I slipped away from his embrace to crawl to the other side of the bed.

"Elizabeth." He seemed worried, turning onto his side and reaching out a hand, though not making contact.

"One second," I told him, finding my phone in the pocket of my pair discarded shorts.

I tugged his undershirt back on while simultaneously scrolling through my apps. I typed something, then slid back over to him. I used his chest as a pillow, leaning back against him so that I faced the ceiling and had to tilt my head up to see him. He looked worried so I smirked, putting a hand behind his neck so that he was leaning over me and I could kiss him. Before we broke apart, I snapped a photo with my phone, looked over it with a critical eye, then finished my task.

"Elizabeth, what…" He was clearly confused by my actions.

"Check your phone," I told him.

Still clearly confused, he obliged. I sat up so that he could do the same and leaned over his shoulder while he opened a notification from Facebook.

" _Elizabeth Bennet is in a relationship with Fitzwilliam Darcy_ ," he read, a little disbelievingly.

"It's the fastest, easiest way I could think of." I told him.

I had also changed my profile pic to the one I had just snapped of us kissing, because I knew there would be plenty of people who assumed April Fool's Day had come early. I saw him confirm the status, like the picture and turn back to me.

"The only reason I wanted to keep this private was because… it had such a rocky beginning. And I didn't want everyone's dumb opinions on it." I rolled my eyes. "But if you think I was keeping it a secret because I didn't want to be seen with you, you're a bigger idiot than I've given you credit for."

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said.

My eyes widened, my mouth formed an O of surprise, and I was pretty sure I had stopped breathing.

"And I need you to always tell me when I'm being an idiot."

"I can do that," I whispered.

My heart constricted, and I kissed him with feeling. We gazed at each other for a moment when I pulled back. He seemed extremely content and relaxed, perhaps more so because of how serious and tense he had just been. Personally, I felt like I was having an adrenaline rush. I didn't care how I sounded, or how vulnerable my voice was, I needed him to reiterate something.

"Will," I bit my lip, my voice barely a whisper. "Do you really love me?"

He seemed surprised and a bit amused at my question. Unexpectedly, he flipped me onto my back, leaning over me on his elbows. Slowly, hotly, he kissed the space between my neck and my shoulder.

"Elizabeth," he said, still sounding amused. "I have loved you for so long, I couldn't even say when it began. I was already so deep before I realized what was happening."

Suddenly his expression turned serious. "I know you've not been as… welcoming to me…and-"

"Will," I interrupted him. "I _did_ think you were kind of pompous and arrogant when we first met-"

" _Kind of pompous and arrogant_?" He repeated, laughing. "If I remember correctly, the words you used were-"

I put a hand over his mouth with an admonishing look. "Do you really want to start repeating the things we both said to each other those first couple of months, Mr. Darcy?" I asked sternly. He gave me an uncomfortable look.

"No," he said resignedly and, I swear to God, with a little bit of a pout. I think he's noticed how little I can resist his wounded expression. I smiled indulgently, then turned serious.

"Will," I started, getting his attention by using his first name, "It's been just as long for me pretending I was just… reluctantly putting up with you because… the more I actually got to know you… the easier it would be to fall in love,"

It was his turn to be surprised. Soon, however, a look of such warmth, affection, and intensity filled his eyes. Softly, I kissed his lips. "I love you, Will."

"Lizzy," he groaned, his forehead touching mine and his eyes shut tight. "Say that again,"

"I love you," I laughed, stretching up to taste the skin on his jawline. He groaned again and I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. He still hovered over me, but I felt in control.

"Holy shit, it's for real." A voice sounded to the right of us. We both jumped; I gasped and sat up, pushing Darcy off of me.

"Jesus Christ, Lydia!" I exclaimed in surprised anger. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Uh, what the hell are _you_ doing?" she snapped back with humor. "Since when are you two dating?"

"Since none of your business! Get the hell out of here." I glared at her. She threw her hands up.

"Okay," she said in a placating manor, turning to leave. "But, just so you know," she added with her back still to us, "Mom saw the post too."

I turned to look at Darcy with a horrified expression.

"We should go to your place," I told him.

I pulled on my shorts, Darcy buttoned up his shirt, and we managed to sneak out just in time. My mom was coming out onto the porch when we pulled away.

"Should I stop?" Darcy asked when Mom called out my name.

"Don't you dare," I told him with a sharp look. He laughed, took my hand, and sped off.

END


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